/cracks open a beer
crkPSSSHH
/cue King of the Hill theme song...
As Brox moves forward, Thaddeus follows behind, trodding through the uneven caves - the pervasive moisture glistening along its walls. Every so often there is a sucking sound as one of their boots steps on a particularly soft spot, but overall their movement is silent in darkness.
Up ahead, the tunnel widens somewhat, revealing what seems to be a shallow stream that bisects an immense tunnel stretching to the north and south. To the east a small passage exits the chamber at a steep incline.
More important, across the stream, two small, bipedal reptilian humanoids about 3 feet tall seem to go about some task you cannot really ascertain from this distance.
They have powerful looking jaws for creatures of their size and noticeable claws on hands and feet. Their semblance is curiously devoid of expression, as the only telltale of any actual commitment to whatever it is they are doing are their swishing tails.
Their skin has a sickening rusty red tinge to it, and when Brox steps closer to the exit of the tunnel, one of them seems to raise its head, looking towards their direction, and grunting or speaking (you are not sure) to the other one standing next to it.
whispered the Thaddeus Imma go get da casters to lay dese two out, den we kin pass trew 'ere. Make sure dey don see yer...
Head back to the rest of the group and describe what we found.
It would prolly be bestest if we laid em out quick like wit a spell'r sumfink. Normally I'd jes walk up all quiet like a tip em inna head, but we gotta cross a crik ter get t'em.
hehehe Ok!
--Round 1--
Assuming they have been noticed, the companions press forward to find the creatures squeaking and growling from the other side of the stream, somewhat protected by a rocky outcropping that juts out from the water.
Noticing Brox, they immediately launch their attacks, using crudely made slings to pepper the half-orc with stones.
One of the primitive projectiles actually manages to hit the rogue, scraping his forehead. The creatures seem to rejoice, strangely shouting in halting Taldane - "You NO take CANDLE!"
I'm at work with now so I can't add a marker, but I will start in the square immediately south of Thaddeus. Move me East-> East-> Northeast. I'm setting up for a running jump across the creek next turn.
As the adventurers close in, both of the creatures seem very agitated, jumping up and down, gesturing frantically and giggling, laughing... Or something similar.
They seem to pause momemtarilly at Mors words, but then, in a rush, reload the crude slings and launch another two stones at the group, which bounce harmlessly over Brox's well made studded leather.
Running jump to cross the creek.
I end my jump on square Q6 (can't move the marker lol)
In the first ten feet I draw both gladius
Mors decisively moves forward first, and when he does so, about to step foot into the stream, he feels the floor below him give way a tad too much than it should - too late, a spring loaded dart trap fires from a well hidden spot in the nearby rocks, hitting the man in an unprotected spot, and drawing the smallest trickle of blood.
When the dart hits, the creatures veritable cackle in glee, clapping each other in the shoulder, seemingly very satisfied. The look in their faces changes however when Mors walks up in their face with menacing words.
The first one, right next to Mors, changes from the gleeful cackling, to a low menacing growl, drawing a small spear, and jabbing it at the huge man. The attack is surprisingly well aimed, but the Warpriest's scale mail easily deflects the puncturing weapon - "Wha..?" - comes the creature's surprised reaction.
The other one falls in line with his companion - "Smelly big'un dies of POWAH poison!" - he screeches, also drawing a small, poorly constructed spear, and launching a poorly aimed attack, which proves quite ineffective - "Aawwwww..." - the long snout one seems disappointed.
Brox moves north->northeast->north->northwest, setting up a nice flank with the critter on P3.
The oily coating on the dart may have been poisoned or not, yet this makes no difference as far as Mors is concerned - his stout constitution easily shrugging away any potential harmful side effects.
So I missed
Brox deftly navigates the area, to find the best possible positioning behind the creature on the right side - lunging with a swift strike from his vantage point, which surprisingly doesn't connect - his wide eyed foe, not really knowing which way to look seems as surprised as the half-orc that it wasn't hit.
As Mors wades in to trip one of the puny creatures, it tries to react with a fanged grin and a snarl, but its ability to counter proves ineffective to say the least, and the blow glances off harmlessly.
The huge man's movement on the other hand is nothing if not effective, the blade sweeeping in a wide arc, taking out the feet from under the creature as if it was weightless, and dropping it flat on the ground. Seemingly ready to immediately stand up, it does hovewer lose some of its momentum and motivation to retaliate when Thaddeus spear veritably impales the wretch's companion, perforating it cleanly from one side to the other. As the tiefling removes his weapon with a similar motion to the one that just eliminated his foe, it falls down like a clumsy rag doll.
"Noooo!" - the other one wails - "Gracchnak'tar! Dead! Me no dead! Pleeeeze! No DEAD!"
The creature whines and shuffles, but seems to make no aggressive movement as you tie it up.
The sniveling continues all the while though - "No... Me good... Just checkinz some stuffs in cavezzz is all..."
While Mors and Thad tie up the little reptilian ferret, Brox checks the recently dead for valuables and such.
Make sure yer axes him who set da traps...
Mors grunts his agreement as he waits for answers. "Like children. Scaley, ugly, annoying, toothy children." He pauses and looks over at Thad, "Cousins a'yours?"
Hahaha! Good'un dere Mors! Nah dese t'ings stink o' piss an' fear. Thad 'ere...'e 'as da smell o' brimstone 'bout 'im if'n I don' miss m'guess.
Dey don' carry much wealf on em's needer...wunderin' if'n dey taste good...
Brox looks at the little reptilian thing, narrowing one eye and arching the opposite eyebrow speculatively.
"Mezzanows nothins for biguns!" - it squeeks - "Mezzascouts for big chief - tells Gracchnak'tar and Bruuvakni'tar 'fetch stones and find people and knows all, so me knows all, and weeeze knows ALL!" - he seems to get carried away momentarily, but calms down looking at you all - "Weezalooks but sees onytunnelzandtunnelz - ranz from izzaslowanugly, hastrapzz anateachemgood! Ha! Buthenzzz biguns come and hitazzzall hard, and hitzzzz, and hitzzz.." - his voice trails off into a wheeze, as Mors zaps the fallen one with his wand.
Dey don' carry much wealf on em's needer...wunderin' if'n dey taste good...
Brox looks at the little reptilian thing, narrowing one eye and arching the opposite eyebrow speculatively.
The one still left alive lifts an eye towards Brox, with a disgusted look in its rat/reptile like face - "Noooooooooo... No gooodz, toughandhardtobitechewymuddytastin... Noooooo" - he shakes his head emphatically.
"Noooozhafling, nooo nooo, but..." - the creature pauses momentarily, nose up in the air as if asking you to be silent, but not daring to do so.
Both Mors and Thaddeus don't really hear much more than the flowing stream right next to them, and perhaps some sort of sucking sound further away, but Brox does pick up something else - Janira's voice... As if it was impossibly far away, yet he is sure it is her unmistakable, crystal clear voice.
The creature smiles a huge, irregular smile, made up of broken, misshapen teeth, and perhaps some remains of food..?
"And what stones did your big chief have you looking for?"
The smile grows impossibly wider - "Shinies"
|
Mors considers, then looks at the other pathfinders. "I don't care about shinies right now, and we can come back to mapping this place until after we find Janira."
He waits for confirmation from Thad and Brox before looking back at the kobold. "You come with us. If we step on a single trap ... it's your hide. If I think for a second you're setting us up for any pain ... it's your hide. If I regret keeping you breathing for a second ... your hide. Got it?"
Mors takes a second to bind the unconscious lizard-folk with the same rope, then tosses it over his shoulder, giving the talkative one a few feet of slack to walk. "Let's go find her."
Yeah dat's a good idea. I t'ink I herd 'er voice off dat way...les'move!